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“Ma? Ma? Mommy?”

“It’s okay, Billy, it’s just a scratch, ahome”

“Mommy? Mommy?”

“Please, Jesus, help this boy!” Frangie cries out in frustration

“Mommy?” Softer this ti a false peace

The white nurse, Lieutenant Treie’s arie to look at her “Listen, you,” Tremayne says, “you mustn’t do that You understand? We’re here to help these boys, and if they hear you talking to Jesus they know they’re done for”

The tension in Billy T Gordon’s body relaxes Urine adds new stains to his trousers There co exhalation

“He was done for when he caie says in monotone

“Listen to ood medic, but you need to protect yourself, you hear ency room at Saint Vincent’s, and I’ve had people die in my arms You have to show theo crazy otherwise”

“A handso like a sewer”

“And your tears don’t change that,” Tremayne says, and walks away

Frangie stands by the deadto move away Her eyes fill with tears, and she knows she can’t cry because she needs to be able to see clearly

This is all we are A bag of guts that can be ripped open as easily as cutting into a sausage

There will beaway into her future

The tears spill down her cheeks, so it is through bleary eyes that Frangie sees Rio Richlin, her leg red fro nonchalantly down the beach with another GI and half a dozen prisoners